Connections
by 99terminater
Summary: It's one thing to wake up in a forest and almost be killed by a mercenary because you overheard important information. It's another thing to survive because your nanites activated out of self-defense, turning you into an E.V.O. It wouldn't have been that bad, even if I didn't know about nanites or E.V.O's. Having no memory from before waking up in that forest?How about no.OC insert


**Hello, readers, and welcome to the first chapter of Connections! You don't need to worry if you've forgotten stuff from the series, or if you haven't even WATCHED GR, since whenever I write anything I make sure no prior knowledge is needed. Now, just a few **warnings **before we begin: **OCs,** specifically, an OC that will eventual be treated as a main-member of the cast. She won't get there for a while, and there won't be any canon breaking, but it'll happen. **Language and violence,** and as you'll see the dude has a fondness for F-bombs when he's mad, and his little mechanism can lead to some MESSY wounds. But! There won't be any severe cursing unless the situation calls for it, or it's in the dialogue. As for the violence, well, it won't get /that/ bad. And that's it.**

**Though I'll let it be known that, as of yet, there is **no beta-reader**, though I still have two pending requests out. And before you go "But, YOU'RE a beta-reader!", the reason I need one in the first place is to keep the canon-characters in-character. It's not like they'll be OOC to the untrained eye, but I want to keep the little things (personal lingo, mannerisms, etc) as accurate and as close-to-canon as possible, since this story is written in a way that it should be like a "What if?" AU of the series where my characters are in it.**

**And last but not least, I feel the need to tell you that A) I'm writing **two other **stories with this, in the loop of BoaF-FS-Connect-BoaF-etc, and B) that **yes**, my chapters are almost always at **least **4k words each (the only ones that aren't are prologues/ tiny chapters where the cliff-hangar comes early on), so updates tend to take a while.**

**Anywho, Generator Rex rightfully belongs to its creator, Man of Action. I only own original characters, scenes, and events not shown in the series, as well as the writing of Connections itself (excluding dialogue that appears in the episodes).**

* * *

Everything hurt.

My muscles ached, more than a few feeling like I might've torn them, and my joints felt like they might fall apart. Every breath felt like someone was raking their nails up and down my throat and lungs.

Something carefully sniffed me, its wet nose letting out puffs of air against my face. I coughed hoarsely, and the animal rushed off with a rustle of leaves. I held back a groan and peeled my eyes open, taking in the skewed view of roots, short plants, and overlong grass. There were rocks in the dirt, which I could feel jabbing into my side painfully.

I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position, nearly collapsing back onto the ground from exhaustion. I let out a cough before forcing myself to my feet, groaning when my knees creaked in resistance.

I stumbled, and had to lean against a tree for support. Something brushed against my foot, and when I shook it to get rid of the tickling sensation I realized I didn't have any shoes on.

I frowned and looked down, brow furrowing when I took in how disheveled my clothing was. My jeans were torn every few inches, and the ends were frayed into loose strings. While my shirt was ripped in only a few places, it was like my jeans in the fact that it was covered in stains.

I raised a hand and carefully tugged at the dual dog-tags threaded on the thin black chord. At the same time, I felt a faint tug on various parts of my neck. Nipping at the inside of my lip, I ran a finger upward, silently counting the times the chord wound around my flesh.

As it turned out, the layered necklace looped a total of six times – four times around my neck, like chokers, and two times hanging down in the front, both falling past my clavicle.

I tilted my head to try and read the single word on each of the tags, but the angle and position made it difficult to decipher. I picked them up and raised them higher, turning them around to—

"Where the _hell_ did it go?!" I jumped when a man's voice, loud and frustrated, cut through the otherwise quiet air. While the local wildlife wouldn't appreciate the noise, at least I knew he was a good ways off.

And if his rage was anything to go by, that was probably a good thing.

"_No!"_ the man shouted a moment later. "I will _not_calm down! If I don't put down that damned mutt, he'll have my head!"

I was hit with a wave of nausea at his words, and I rested my forehead against the rough bark of a tree as I tried to slow my panicked breathing. While Hell couldn't compare to a scorned woman, a pissed off hunter had weapons to use and frustration to vent.

I shook my head and took a deep breath before forcing myself into a run through the greenery. I didn't know for sure whether he was a dangerous or not, but either way I was better off the farther away from him I got.

"_Excuse__me!?_" the man screamed, and if I had the breath I would've let out a stream of curses – while I' thought I'd been moving away from him, it turned out I'd been moving _towards _him. "How the fuck is it _my_ fucking fault that that arrogant _bastard_ decided to use a fucking _prototype_ and make an annoying brat go _full__fucking_ _E.V.O?!_"

I stopped, chest heaving and world spinning as I slumped against a tree. When my vision refocused I could see the man pacing angrily back and forth between the trees, a cell phone held next to his ear.

There was a low sound of rushing water, and along with the soothing chill and smell of water in the air, it made it obvious the man was at the bank of a river. But no matter how calming it was, his words kept coming back to me.

What he'd said before –about having to hunt a canine, one that was created from using a prototype on a _human_– practically _reeked _of someone who got on the wrong side of a crime ring. They'd probably tried to take down the operation, leave it behind, and/or blow the whole thing open.

Not exactly the smartest thing to do, if they had even the smallest sense of self-preservation.

"_You honestly think I_care?!" the man screeched, his face becoming so red it was practically purple. I stiffened and braced my stance, getting ready to run. "He could've just sent some of his fucking goons, or even goddamned _Providence_ after her, but _nooooo!_He just _had_to ship her _halfway_across the fucking _globe_and make _me_ do all the dirty work!"

_Oh,_ _hell, _I thought, eyes widening. This was bad – _really _bad.

It was one thing if it was just some local syndicate, but a ring with enough sources to both send someone overseas _and_ get someone to go after them? If I got caught listening in—

I quickly cut off my train of thought and shook my head, taking a step back. I needed to get out of here, now.

And I needed to get out _fast._

I swallowed thickly and took a step back, waiting for the man to get distracted enough for me to escape. A squirrel darted past my foot, jumping into a bush and getting his attention.

I bit back a swear and quickly pressed myself against the back of a tree next to me, ears strained as I waited for a sign to see whether the man had spotted me or not.

"You know what?" he sighed in an exasperated tone, his Cockney accent fading with his rage. "Forget it. I'll call you back after it's done."

After I heard his phone clap shut, I carefully twisted around the trunk of the tree to look at him. He was facing the river, messing with something in the pack that he'd once worn on his back. The bag dropped to the ground, and he let out a curse before crouching down in front of it.

Grinning, I turned on my heel and bolted. I zipped between the trees, nearly tripping a few times when I had to avoid bushes or twigs so I wouldn't make any more noise.

It was only a few moments later when a chill suddenly ran down my spine, and the back of my mind told me to turn around. I dared a look behind me, only for my heart to leap into my throat when I caught sight of a metal claw rushing towards my face.

Instinctively my legs buckled, and I dropped to the ground, my side erupting in pain. The claw flew past me before the three prongs embedded themselves in a tree, the thick metal cable it was attached to pulling itself taught.

My heart thudded away in my ears as adrenaline started to pour into my system, and I stumbled back to my feet. I wheeled around, a strangled noise escaping my throat when I saw the outstretched arm, the bulky mechanism strapped onto his forearm, the metal cable coming out of it above his hand.

"Hello," the man from before tipped his head in greeting, a sickeningly friendly grin splitting his face. He was at least thirty feet away, but I could still see the gleam in his eyes, and my stomach rolled.

There was a low groan as the prongs of the claw snapped together, the wood in its grasp shattering with a flurry of splinters before it clattered noisily to the ground. He waited patiently for my reaction, only to frown as I remained frozen, body torn between screaming and running away, or collapsing and emptying its stomach.

My gaze had only flicked to it for a second before I went back to staring at the man. He scowled, irritated at my lack of visible fear, before whipping the arm with the mechanism on it to the side.

I stiffened, eyes locked on the metal cable as its movements rippled, the claw kicking up a cloud of dirt before—

A loud, sickening _Crack! _filled my ears as stars burst behind my eyes, the sound quickly replaced by a low ringing. I crumpled to the ground on my hands on knees, gasping as the burning pain finally reached my senses, warm and thick blood already starting to drip down my temple in thick trails.

I coughed and hacked, struggling to properly get air into my lungs over the pain along with the quickly-forming migraine. Blinking away tears, I shakily raised a hand to the wound, biting my lip to keep from making any noise as the pain spiked and spots danced in my vision.

I brought my hand back, bile rising in my throat when a disgusting, metallic smell wafted off of the red stain covering my hand.

Gagging at both the sickening smell and the horrifying sight, I ignored the throbbing in my head and shakily got to my feet. The world spun, and my stomach twisted even after I clenched my eyes shut.

When I felt the balance return to my legs, I slowly opened my eyes. The light made my headache spike, but other than that I was fine. The laughter of the man reached my ears, and when I looked over at him his hand was covering his mouth as he had to lean against a tree.

I couldn't help it when my lip curled at how he wasn't bothered when the bloody talons of the claw were _right next to _his nose and mouth.

I felt my blood turn to ice when I _really _realized what his occupation was. It hadn't been able to sink in earlier, but now I knew.

He was a mercenary – and since I'd overheard classified info regarding his dangerous employer, I was just another target on his list.

_And_, I thought bitterly, glaring at him, _a pretty pathetic one at that._

The mercenary stifled the rest of his giggles and straightened, his arms back at his sides. He was staring at me like I wasn't even there and I repressed a shiver, though I couldn't keep my hands from shaking.

After a pregnant pause his eyebrow raised, and he cracked a smile. "You're not very fun now," he called, crossing his arms. "Are you?"

Anger pooled in my gut, and a growl rumbled from my throat. He was pretty fricking arrogant, wasn't he? He gets paid to take out his targets –whether they were creatures or people– and all of a sudden it doesn't matter he's taking lives just to get some extra pocket money.

_Bastard._

He blinked owlishly at me, and I couldn't help it when a grin made its way onto my face at the fact I'd actually said it out loud.

Yes, he was a mercenary. Yes, he was working for a giant crime syndicate. And yes, he had tried to and _was _goingtokill me.

All it meant was that I had nothing else to lose.

"You're disgusting," I spat at him, limbs tingling with the urge to just beat the bastard's face in. "You get paid to _kill people, _and when you finally get to them you want to watch them _squirm _and _beg_. Like, as if by some _miracle,_ you'll _actually _let them _live!_"

Air bubbled in my throat, and I bit down on my tongue to keep the hysterical laugh in check. Though I didn't doubt it would leave him dumbfounded, I didn't feel like leaving myself open.

He snorted, his smile stretching into a grin and splitting his face. "Shame," he said, tone amused even while his eyes narrowed. "You're even more of a spitfire than that wolf."

My thoughts immediately screeched to a stop, and I was left gaping at him as my head started to pound and my pulse thrummed away in my ears, the strange reaction not making any sense.

_Wolf?_

As my skull felt crushed and ready to split open, random, patchwork-like sounds started to flicker in and out of my ears.

A wolf snarling in bloodlust as it found its prey. A girl screaming— no, _wailing,_ in pain. Bone chilling, smug laughter that could only mean its owner got exactly what he wanted. Voices calling, shouting out in fear and worry. A long, eerie last howl of some canine – some _wolf_.

Tears streamed down my face, and my fingers clumsily gripped the fabric over my heart as I gasped and struggled to inhale, screaming at myself to just _Breathe! _Breathe,_ damn it!_

Suddenly I heard my heart beat, and the sounds disappeared in an instance. I coughed and gagged, hands on my throat as oxygen filled my lungs. The dancing black spots slowly filtered out of my vision, and I realized I must've fallen to my knees after the panic attack started.

There was a low hissing sound, like someone running their hand down a smooth surface, and the next thing I knew a metal cable was wrapping itself around me. I stiffened, scream stuck in my throat as the thick chord pinned my arms down.

The metal started to rapidly retract, yanking me off my feet as the claw closed around my upper arm. An earsplitting screech filled the air as blood started to run down my flesh, another wave of pain emitting from the wound with every beat of my heart.

My feet tangled around each other, and right after I'd been forced to my feet I was slammed back against the ground. I bit back a cry, biting down on my lip as I was dragged rather unceremoniously through the woods.

I was jerked into the air every time I was forced over a root or another large obstacle, and after a while I was completely disoriented from the uneven moment combined with how often I'd banged my head. Then the air suddenly became more humid, and in the background I could pick up the faint sound of rushing water.

The river. He was going back to the river.

Tears burned my eyes, legs scrambling to get a foot hold or prop me up – something, _anything,_ to stop what was about to happen.

_No, _I thought to myself, hysteria building and lodging a scream in my throat as I started to thrash. My legs crashed into roots and plants, adding to the array of cuts, and the wound on my upper arm only deepened.

_NO!_

My breaths were short and rapid, and a screech of rage tore from my throat, covering the roar of the river for a brief—

There was a _Splash! _and cold liquid suddenly surrounded my body, the noise suddenly muted save for the stream of bubbles that escaped my mouth. I gagged for a few second before clamping my mouth closed as I struggled to keep it that way.

Suddenly the section of metal chord between the mechanism and the strip binding me straightened out and locked, stiffening into a rod. I bowed my head and clenched my eyes shut as I resisted the urge to let out another scream of rage.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't. This wasn't— this— this_—_ no—

nononono_NONONONO_**NO!**

In my head, I was screaming.

In my head, I was _resisting._

But it didn't change anything.

Despite my protests my lungs burned, and it wasn't long after that that my muscles went limp. My lips parted, and watered poured down my throat as bubbles came back out.

Spots danced in my vision, and the muted rush of the water's current slowly faded into nothing.

Just like everything else.

* * *

I wheezed and hacked, hazy shapes starting to enter my vision as I retched up water along with everything else in my lungs that wasn't oxygen. I groaned and stared drowsily at the world that was spinning through curtains of reddish-brown hair, the flickering spots leaving colorful afterimages.

I blinked slowly, chest heaving with each breath. My limbs felt like they were made of lead, but I managed to pull a hand to my face and push my hair back over my head. The ends of the damp strands whipped against the middle of my back, while side-swept bangs stuck up for a second before falling back into my right eye.

Something cold was resting against my cheek, and with a huff of annoyance I picked the pieces of metal off my flesh.

I was about to drop them before I realized they were the dog-tags I was wearing. I flipped them right-way up and rotated them enough for me to read the word that went up each side.

The one on top read _Love _while _Hope _was on the other, both punched out in an all-uppercase, military-esque font.

A weight suddenly settled on my chest, and the world became blurry for a second before I started crying. I let out a chocked sob before dropping the tags, confusing filling me when I wondered why I was so sad just because of some stupid necklace.

I sniffled and out of aggravation scrubbed at the tear tracks, now angry at myself for—

"Ow!"

I yanked my hand back when the nails cut into my skin, drops of blood already sliding down my cheek. I carefully prodded one of the scratches, letting out a hiss and quickly pulled away.

And froze.

I strangled noise wormed its way out of my throat when I saw the hand, deathly white with prominent blue arteries from the claw-like nails to the edge of my vision and no doubt past it.

My chest heaved up and down, up and down, and no matter how many times I told myself to slow down it just went faster. After a few moments I became light-headed, and the bliss of nothingness only lasted for a second before everything refocused.

Tears burning in my eyes, I slowly clenched my hand into a fist. So did the white hand.

I chocked on air, making my index finger graze across the pad of my thumb. The hand mimicked the movement at the same time, the nail leaving a thin cut just as a faint pain erupted in my thumb.

_Oh, God…_

Blood beaded on the cut before rolling down the finger, and as soon as the first drop hit my face my stomach immediately lurched.

I flipped over in time for the foul-smelling bile to splatter against the moist soil instead of my shirt. I gagged and continued to retch until my stomach was empty, but didn't stop until my throat constricted.

I spat out the excess saliva in my mouth before taking a deep breath and sitting back on my haunches, running the –_Oh God it can't be mine but it _is– hand through my hair.

Daring a look down, I swallowed the urge to vomit again when I saw that my feet and any other skin I could see was in the same state. I blinked rapidly before managing to tear my eyes away and—

I froze, gaping.

What.

_What._

_WHAT._

I shakily got to my feet and stepped forward, mouth dry. Despite what I'd thought, despite what all logic pointed to, I _hadn't _gotten out of the river. In fact, I didn't think I'd moved more than a foot or two.

I sucked in a deep breath before reaching a hand out towards the circle of frozen waves, blocking the water as they crested outwards.

"Have you figured it out yet?" my head whipped to the side, and I noticed the mercenary was still standing on the riverside, the claw-mechanism retracted. He was frowning, looking at me with an expression resembling pity.

My lip curled, and I glared at him. Receiving pity was one thing – being pitied by the person who _was going to kill you _and so had no right to do _any_ pitying whatsoever was another.

"You're an E.V.O," he called, lips pulled up in amusement as I stiffened, eyes wide. Wasn't— Wasn't that human_-_turned_-wolf_ an E.V.O? How could my freaky appearance change have _anything _to do with something as drastic as _that?_

As if such a thing happened every other day, he burst out laughing at my confusion.

"Can't believe it, can ya?" he grinned, accent thickening a bit. Apparently it didn't just happen when he was angry.

"E-V-O," he spelled out, bobbing his head to a different side with each letter. "Exponentially Variegated Organism. Only occurs when the subject's nanites activate and make it mutate drastically."

He leaned back against a tree, crossing his arms and frowning at me.

"Though," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "It's not often humans stay human after they change. Let alone only looking the part when they use their powers."

I blinked a few times before giving him a look as if he'd said one plus one equaled pomegranate. Since when was having deathly-white skin and arteries that looked like they were freaking _painted on _not looking the part?

I raised a hand to let out a sarcastic retort, and quickly backpedaled.

My hand was back to normal. Jumping a bit before looking down, I realized the rest of me was, too.

Fair skin, slightly visible arteries, normal-length, rounded off nails.

Then I backpedaled _again._

…Powers? He had to be talking about the ice, but—

"I didn't do that," I frowned, glancing at the frozen waves. His eyebrows rose, and he looked at me like I was crazy.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, kid," he said bluntly. "Whether you tried to or not, that was all _you. _As rare as element manipulation is, it's not even close to impossible when it comes to you 'V.O's."

He paused, brow furrowing before he went on. "But I've never seen someone's nanites activate in an act of self-defense before – and I've been hunting them since the Event."

"The Event?" I said dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Well, isn't _that _specific."

Now he was flat out gaping at me, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he tried to figure out what to say. After a few moments he sighed and shook his head.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do ya kid?" he wondered, almost as if he were in awe at my level of ignorance.

"Do you think I'd be this confused if I _did?_" I shot back, grinding my teeth in irritation.

He only sighed and rolled his eyes.

"How about this," he began evenly. "You figure out a way to get outta that river yourself and swear to forget about what you heard, and I pretend this never even happened. Deal?"

"Sure," I said slowly, staring at him in confusion. "But isn't that a little stupid? Letting me go, I mean."

"Pff— _please_," he waved his hand, looking like he might burst out laughing again. "You'll be hearing so much stuff after this that you'll probably forget everything I said except for the fact I was hunting some E.V.O."

"Are you _seri_—"

"Just shut up and get to dry land, brat." He barked, glowering at me.

I hesitated a second before looking nervously towards the rushing water between my little safe-spot and the riverside.

…I'd been the one to freeze the water, right? And to do it like I had, I must've moved the rest of it out of the way first.

I took a deep breath, feeling a little stupid, and pretended that every tiny drop of water had a string attached to it. Strings that I could grab and move in any way I wanted with just a flick of my wrist.

I stretched an arm out, and I could swear my hand tingled. I swallowed hard, trying to shove away any negative thoughts so I wouldn't create a reverse-placebo effect.

Feeling the mercenary's eyes boring into me, I carefully moved my hand to the side. An invisible line formed in the water from the ice towards the shore, and amazingly all the liquid to the right of the line moved to the side. The water to the left side stopped as soon as it reached it, like there was an invisible wall.

Just like that, I'd made my own way out.

Deciding not to risk doing two things at once, I carefully climbed over the fence of waves and onto the path of land. Or rather, the path that split the river in two.

_Like Moses, _I thought, laughing internally as I climbed onto the riverside, the man still staring at me.

Giggling in excitement, I turned around and imagined the ice melting as I clenched my hand into a fist before letting it go slack. At the same time, the waves smoothly melted and added to the roar of the river with the rest of the water.

"You do realize," I looked over as the mercenary began speaking carefully, cautiously. "That you didn't change, right?"

The beginning of a laugh escaped my throat until I realized he was right. My skin, which was apparently supposed to go E.V.O. in appearance whenever I used my powers, hadn't changed at all.

I blinked slowly as it sunk in, and he plopped down onto the ground and waved me off.

I nodded absentmindedly and started to walk off, feeling my mouth twitch as a thought occurred to me.

Looked like I was a freak among freaks.

* * *

I walked aimlessly through the suburban area, light-headed from blood loss and confusion. No matter how many times I'd tried to freeze the gashes on my arm closed, the continuous pump of blood either melted through it or wormed its way through the miniscule gaps and made it flake off.

Even worse, I didn't know where I was. I knew it was near some woods and a river, but that was it. All the street signs were meaningless, and I felt like banging my head against a wall.

The world lurched forward for a second, and I quickly straightened back up only for my feet to tangle. I couldn't even think before there was a sudden falre of pain and I was staring up at the sky.

"Hey," a man entered my vision, his figure looming over me. I blinked sluggishly at him. "Do you need any hel—"

He froze, and I saw his eyes widen. I didn't even blink before he'd whipped his cell phone out and started talking animatedly into it. I could make out something about being cut up and how there was a lot of blood, and whenever he paused I could faintly hear a woman trying to calm him down.

A 911 operator? Well, I guess it made sense – who else would someone call if they found some random fifteen-year-old who looked like they'd been used as a human cutting board?

It took me a few moments for me to realize he was trying to get my attention. I tried to nod at him, only for my head to loll to the side.

"What's your name?" he asked frantically.

All at once the air was sucked out of my lungs as the simple question made my vision spin.

What was my name?

What was it?

What— What_ what whatwhatwhat_WHAT_—_

The man swore before shouting in frustration at the operator, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.

How had I gotten into that forest?

I played through my memories in reverse, from leaving the mercenary to when the animal had sniffed my face. And then—

My heart seized, and I gasped, unable to breath no matter how many times I thought about the process, what it felt like and how to do it.

Nothing_._

I remember drifting into consciousness, but before that?

Nothing.

_Nothing._

The world blurred for a second before tears, hot and salty, started to roll down my face. The man was practically shrieking in panic, and I could hear the faint wail of an ambulance in the distance.

He kept shooting me questions, and when he stammered too much to speak I could hear the operator doing the same to him.

But no matter how many questions were sent my way, or his, there was one question that took priority over everything else and made it impossible to focus on anything.

Three simple words that left my mind reeling from when I'd first thought it to when everything started to become muffled, and the world slowly faded into black.

_Who am I?_


End file.
